


Our Glory

by Cur



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Recovery, alex can't cope for shit, im not crying you are, this is an old ass fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:27:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cur/pseuds/Cur
Summary: John Laurens is dead - and Alexander Hamilton is left alone.(Another quick & short oneshot that is so clearly rushed fuck me)





	Our Glory

⠀  
⠀  
⠀⠀⠀ It had been weeks since Alex had left his office besides to grab a pen or speak with Washington. During the day he would do as expected, of course: work. It became apparent to him that his scribbling was a distraction when, at nightfall, he would end up writing a letter to John only to remember the last letter he had received.  
⠀  
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⠀⠀⠀ Despite the knowledge of this, he hid his grief and continued to write the letters, like John would open it and smile to Alex's wording— Like he'd see his best friend one more time. Alexander wasn't new to losing people and handling grief; He had lost his entire family, but used it as a boost to inspire him to keep writing and writing. It was different this time; His sense of self preservation had been destroyed, yet he continued to blame the fact he had to help form the country. People believed him, even his wife and Angelica. They encouraged him to take a break and return home, especially on birthdays, but he would only do so every other week to eat, get in a few hours, and check up on hs family. Eliza would try to console him, but he dismissed her but within the year he was taking care of her after giving birth.  
⠀  
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⠀⠀⠀ Philip and Eliza had motivated him to live after being ready for death for nearly a decade. Since John was torn from him, he felt like he fell back to square one. There wasn't time to let such depressing thoughts inhale him into nothingness, he had to work. The country was depending on him to help form it, he wouldn't let his lack of stability change that. There wasn't enough time.  
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⠀⠀⠀ Two years went by swiftly and the plan was finally finished and now being tweaked. Alexander found himself at home, doing the quick letter to Angelica here and there besides being apart of the family; He had to be the father he never had. Things had cooled down and now the orphan barely thought of John until his wife communicated with him.  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alexander fell again, despite his polite smile towards the woman and his- her child. Martha looked rather flustered to see him, and babbled on about how little she and John communicated.  
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⠀⠀⠀ "He was so intelligent, sir, perhaps more so than you. Jacky was such a brave and good man, as you do know, sir. I only wish he would've been able to see me one last time- Only I got caught up and he never met his first born. Oh, terribly wise as he was he made quite an ill error to meet his doom. Always wanted to free those slaves- Good man, I tell you. Henry- his father, sir- wanted him to stay in school, bless his soul, but he went off to the war and was fortunate enough to meet you," she began, her voice barely making out the words she stammered so much. "Jacky _loved_ you, sir, couldn't shut up in his letters- usually wished me well, but he hardly wrote. Henry was over for some tea and whiskey- oh, I heard about your whiskey plan, sir, I have all sorts of questions-" Martha stopped to catch her breath before dragging on. "We got the letter from a general- Not Washington, I don't believe, I'm not much of a reader- then I told father dear that you, Marquis- what a handsome-"  
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⠀⠀⠀ "Thank you, ma'am. It's good to know he was thought of so fondly," he sharply cut in.  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alexander, for once, was at a loss of words. His brain felt as numb as his heart had— However, now they threatened to melt and decay with guilt and grief. "I'd love to discuss my whiskey plan, but I fear I haven't yet finished it. Another time, Ms. Laurens."  
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⠀⠀⠀ "O-oh, of course, dear sir, but-"  
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⠀⠀⠀ The door had already slammed behind him. Alex's vision was blurred over as he stormed his way back to the office, desperate for a distraction that wouldn't involve him being faced by others. He closed the door behind him before collapsing in his desk, exhaling a breath. The years of denial had been popped by the woman's stammering. John was dead, and all the letters written and hidden in his desk wouldn't change that. Nothing would.  
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⠀⠀⠀ He yanked open the drawer with the said letters, staring at the neat pile. Alex slammed them on his desk, beginning to read the most recent one:  
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⠀⠀⠀ _Dearest Laurens,_  
_⠀_  
_⠀_  
_⠀⠀⠀ It had been some time since your last visit and our last party. I don't think I've seen you since our battling days, though I do not blame you for our separation; We have both become men with wives and children to please and now the people. I do believe, good sir, we can abolish slavery if our efforts are combined. We never did finish those essays_  
_⠀_  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alex ripped it in half, and read through the other ones that might as well had carried the same message. John had died for freedom _after_ _the_ _war_ and quite bravely, but had nothing to show for it. He was just another body to burn or bury, just another statistic, just another letter. In frustration, he kicked his desk, only gaining him pain. The veteran threw the papers into his fireplace, watching his denial and best friend burn away into nothing but a memory.  
⠀

* * *

  
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⠀⠀⠀ He would've been there.  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alexander is certain of it when he steps up to Thomas Jefferson walks up to him rather idiotically. Laurens would've been his Madison, who gave him pats on the back and basically polished his ego. No- Laurens and Hamilton would have been equals. Not that it mattered; He was standing alone with his lips sealed together to silence all the arguments that built up in his body.  
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⠀⠀⠀ He would've stopped Alex.  
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⠀⠀⠀ When his eyes go over to Maria Reynolds in his bed next to him, the thought of John and he working away together on the project definitely would've washed away this mistake. But John was dead and Alex was working alone and now cheating on his wife. Had John been alive, maybe he would've prevented Alex from ruining himself with the Reynolds Pamphlet.  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alex wouldn't have gone to the duel or perhaps not have aimed at the sky, and maybe his son wouldn't have been dead.  
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⠀⠀⠀ But his eyes are locked with Aaron Burr's which were glaring with anger. And yet he held his dead son's gun they shared, standing in the same spot his blood was spilled. His eyes went down to Aaron pointing at his chest just as his arm went to the sky and the bullets flew. One struck between Hamilton's ribs, and Death began to loom over him - _not_ his loved ones for once.   
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⠀⠀⠀ "John...I see John..."  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alexander had always imagined death, how it would eventually reap him. He expected darkness and silence to consume him, left only with thoughts and regret. In the moments of his suffering, all he could think about was his legacy, his family, his Eliza. Would he leave negativity in his wake, or rather a better world? What had his garden- his legacy left? Who would tell his story?  
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⠀⠀⠀ "Alexander, please, stay with me, I need you- Our kids-"  
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⠀⠀⠀ _Eliza_. Of course. Eliza, who had always been so patient and kind to him, who loved him whole heartedly despite his imperfections. He hoped for a long, glorious life for her, so she too could leave a legacy: One she surely deserved more than him.  
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⠀⠀⠀ He could barely see her now with his heavy eyelids, whispering to her though she didn't seem to understand. Alexander reached out to hold her hand as a tear slipped down his paling face. Forcing a smile to her, he started to speak coherently. "I see George, Philip, I see..." Eliza was sobbing as he muttered, pain burning away his senses. "John, I see John..."  
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⠀⠀⠀ The prideful man, much taller than him, was sitting youthfully by his bed, smiling. "Really, _Aaron_ _Burr_?"  
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⠀⠀⠀ Alexander almost laughed, but it was painful enough to keep his eyes open and to breathe. "Jo-John. You should've-"  
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⠀⠀⠀ "I know, I know. Let's go join my friends. There's a successful black battalion here, Alex. I only wish I could've done more for them- for you."  
  
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⠀⠀⠀ "I love you," he exhaled, his dry lips hardly moving. "God, John- I missed you so much, I-" Alexander's lips stopped moving and more tears slipped down his face until he had nothing left to give— not even an intake of air.  
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End file.
